


Tomorrow Is Never What It's Supposed To Be

by jesileigh



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Memory Loss, season 5 speculation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8657698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesileigh/pseuds/jesileigh
Summary: Oliver wakes up one morning, just days before his wedding, feeling like something just isn't right. When he meets the babbling head of the Queen Consolidated IT department, that unease just continues to grow, his gut telling him there's something missing. With Felicity's help he pieces together his memories until the puzzle is complete and then must decide whether to return home to his own reality or stay in this new one. Meanwhile, back in his reality the team is scrambling to find him while dealing with an unexpected visitor at the same time.My own take/speculation on the upcoming 100th episode. Title credit to Bob Dylan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It is sadder to find the past again and find it inadequate to the present than it is to have it elude you and remain forever a harmonious conception of memory.  
> F. Scott Fitzgerald

Not for the first time, Oliver had a hangover. Or at least, it felt like a hangover. An otherworldly hangover. His head felt like it was about to explode and his body ached in ways he hadn’t even known possible. He blinked himself awake, hissing as the light assaulted his senses. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on his surroundings. His bedroom came into focus around him finally, and his eyes fell to the tray of breakfast food on his desk. Raisa always knew exactly how to get him back on his feet after a long night with Tommy.

The thought hit him like a train--Tommy? Raisa? His bedroom at Queen mansion? What the hell was going on? He shot up, instantly regretting it as the world around him began to spin. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it. He stood and stumbled his way across the room to the bathroom, feeling as though he was about to be violently ill, when he caught sight of himself in the standing mirror in the corner and felt his mouth go dry.

His scars were gone. His tattoos were gone. His skin was smooth and unmarred before him as he ran his hands over his chest and abdomen, as though it was all an illusion. For the third time, he rubbed his eyes viciously and the looked back at his reflection. Before him was a man who had clearly never been shot or stabbed or burned or branded. But  _ how _ ?

“Oliver?” called a voice outside his door, accompanied by a brisk knock. He panicked for a moment--looking around until he found a t-shirt hanging on the back of a chair and then yanking it over his head. 

“Come--come in?” he replied, his voice wavering as he said it. Oliver stood back, prepared to attack if need be, but when the door opened he felt the bottom of his stomach drop out instead.

“ _ Dad?”  _ he breathed out. Robert Queen raised an eyebrow at his son who stood looking bewildered before him. He held a garment bag in his hand, which he hung on the back of the door before turning to appraise Oliver, shaking his head a bit.

“Don’t sound so surprised to see me. You knew I’d be back in time for the party this afternoon,” Robert said, his tone slightly judgmental. “It’s already almost four and you aren’t even showered. Your mother will have a fit if she finds out you were out all night again.” 

Oliver didn’t reply, his mouth agape as Robert scolded him, trying his damndest to piece everything back together. He vaguely remembered a flash of his dream before he woke up--it had been a doozy. Something with aliens and superheroes with lightning speed and a bow and arrow. It was all so fuzzy all of a sudden, like he was trying to grasp onto water that kept slipping through his fingers. 

“Oliver!” Robert said loudly, clearly having failed to get his attention. “Are you even listening to me, son?” 

“I’m sorry,” Oliver replied. “Yes. Party. Getting dressed. I’ll get right on it,” he promised. Robert regarded him with suspicion and let himself out, calling over his shoulder as he went.

“You have one hour before the guests begin to arrive. Try to be on time.” Oliver nodded as the door closed and then began pacing.

Suddenly a brilliant idea struck him and he ran to his desk and picked up the tablet that lay there. A quick press of the home button lit up the screen, which read:

 

 _November 30 2016_   
        3:54 PM

 

So he hadn’t traveled back in time, then. Of course he hadn’t, that wasn’t possible. Why had that even crossed his mind as a possibility, he wondered. Everything looked normal, so why did he keep feeling like it shouldn’t be? Why had his dad standing in his bedroom felt like something more impossible than time travel? It felt like seeing him for the first time after years and years of missing him with everything in him.

 

What the  _ hell _ had Tommy Merlyn put in his drinks last night?

 

Oliver chose to shake it off for now, thinking that maybe a shower would help clear his mind of whatever was going on in there. It didn’t entirely eradicate the anxious buzz he was feeling, but he did feel as though he could handle putting on a smile to help host whomever his parents were having to dinner that night. He donned a simple suit and tie and made his way downstairs to the living area, only a few minutes later than he’d promised his father he would be. It didn’t go unnoticed, however, and he caught his mother shooting him a disapproving look across the room when he entered. And there was that  _ feeling _ again. That ache in his chest when his eyes fell on her that made him feel like he hadn’t seen her in forever. It was a feeling of relief like none he’d ever known before and it scared the hell out of him. 

“Oliver, so glad you could join us,” she said tersely, waving him over to join her. “I trust you’ve heard of Mr. Palmer, the head of our applied sciences division?” Oliver raised an eyebrow when the man turned to shake his hand. He was tall and lanky and for some reason one look at his face sent a spike of anger through him--it almost felt like... _ jealousy _ ? How?

“Please, call me Ray!” The man insisted, his voice bright and full of enthusiasm.

“Ray has a line of smartwatches ready for production at Queen Consolidated this winter. And Mrs. Palmer is the head of the IT department, isn’t that right?” Moira asked. Ray grinned proudly turning to the blonde woman standing behind him to introduce her. When she turned around to face them Oliver felt the wind get knocked out of him. 

“That’s right! This is my wife--”

“ _ Felicity, _ ” Oliver gasped, taking himself along with everyone else, by surprise.

“You know my name?” she said incredulously. 

“We haven’t met?” Oliver sputtered. Felicity shook her head in confusion.

“No. I mean, I know who you are--you’re Mr. Queen--I mean, your father is Mr. Queen, technically. But so are you, and now I’m going to stop babbling in 3...2...1.” She bit her lip to contain herself, her cheeks flushing red. Ray was glancing from Felicity to Oliver suspiciously and Moira was looking concerned. 

“Anywho, thank you so much for the invite,” Ray said. “Great party.”

“Absolutely,” Felicity agreed. “Thank you, Mr. Queen.”

“Please, call me Oliver,” he insisted, and Felicity blushed again.

“Congratulations, Oliver,” she said, drawing his name out just slightly in a way that made something flutter in his stomach. He was so distracted by the feeling that he almost missed it.

“I’m sorry, congratulations?” he asked, frowning a bit. 

“On the wedding of course!” Ray chuckled, cuffing Oliver on the shoulder. “Not thinking of running off, are you?” he added in a stage whisper. An elbow to his side from his wife shut him up quickly. “Sorry. That was inappropriate.”

“We’ll just be going,” Felicity said firmly. “I can’t wait to see how beautiful Miss Lance looks in her gown this weekend. She’ll make a beautiful bride.” 

 

There was that punch to the gut feeling again. He was getting  _ married _ . This  _ weekend _ . So much for convincing himself that everything was normal. He would definitely not have forgotten his own wedding, right? He suddenly felt very hot and his pulse and breathing were increasing rapidly, panic setting in. His mother was still watching him carefully, and he felt her hand come to rest on his arm.

“Oliver, is everything alright?” she asked. 

“Fine,” he muttered. 

“Well it had better be. Laurel and her family will be here soon, and given the heartache  you and Sara put her through last week we’re lucky she’s even agreed to go through with this. Pull yourself together and try not to embarrass your family for once, please.” The disappointment in her voice made Oliver’s heart sink and he watched her walk away to thank some of the other guests for coming with a frown on his face. 

 

Somehow Oliver managed to maintain a polite silence as the engagement party progressed. Laurel spent most of the night giving him the cold shoulder, something he was incredibly grateful for, given the circumstances, though even looking at  _ her  _ made his chest ache with that feeling of relief and longing that had become remarkably familiar since he’d woken up that afternoon. 

It became evident very quickly that there were very few people at the party who approved of the upcoming wedding. Apparently he and Sara had been caught together by Laurel the week before, though for some reason she’d still agreed to go through with the wedding. Oliver overheard some of the guests taking bets on how long the marriage would last when he’d snuck off to the kitchen to gather his wits about him again. 

 

He slipped out the back door to get a breath of fresh air and ran directly into the blonde woman who had taken his breath away just a few hours ago. 

“Felicity,” he said, her name rolling off of his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it belonged there. 

“Mr. Queen!” she jumped in surprise, as though she was worried she’d be in trouble for leaving the main area of the house. 

“Please, call me Oliver,” he reminded her. 

“Right. Oliver,” she said. “I’m sorry--I just get a little claustrophobic at these things. Just needed to get some air.” 

“Me too,” he replied, and she gave him a small smile that made his breath catch in his throat. Why did he feel like this woman was so much more than his father’s employee? Oliver noticed her shivering under his intense stare and he cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away before he scared her off. 

“How did you know who I am?” she blurted out suddenly. 

“I--I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe I’ve run into you at QC before?”

“I think I’d remember that. You’re not exactly easy to forget.” She winced in embarrassment before she’d even finished talking and Oliver couldn’t help the breathy laugh that escaped him as her cheeks flushed a deep pink color. Something about her just put him at ease and he wasn’t about to walk away from that. 

“So you’re the head of the IT department?” he asked. 

“Just got promoted about a year ago. Before that I basically did the same thing I do now, I just got paid less for it. Now I even have my own office.” 

“How long have you been married?” he knew the question was too personal, but something inside him was desperate to keep her talking, to keep her near him.

“Almost six months now. We met when he took over Applied Sciences a couple of years ago. It was love at first Dr. Who reference,” she giggled and Oliver found himself wanting to hear more, leaning in to listen eagerly. 

“Mr. Queen,” came a gruff voice from behind them. He turned to see a large man looking quite unimpressed with him. “Your fiancee is looking for you, sir.” 

“Oh, Mr. Diggle!” Felicity said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Mrs. Palmer, always a pleasure,” the man replied. The sense of unease mixed with painstaking familiarity overwhelmed Oliver again as the two exchanged pleasantries and he studied both of them intently until he realized they were both looking at him in concern.

“Mr. Queen? Your party, sir?” Diggle prodded, holding the door open for him. Oliver looked to Felicity, longing for any reason to stay. 

“It was nice to meet you, officially,” she said nervously. “I should probably get back to my husband before he sends out a search party.” She sidled past him and gave a little wave to the bodyguard before disappearing around the corner and Oliver had no choice but to follow Diggle back to the crowd inside.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity isn't coping well with Oliver's disappearance and Oliver tries to record all of the visions that keep coming to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for all of the responses to this story so far! I sat down and hammered out an outline today, so at least I have a plan now! I hope you enjoy!

“Felicity when is the last time you ate something? Or showered? Or slept?” John approached the bank of computers where Felicity was camped out in her chair, her hair in disarray and a bright orange energy drink can in her hand. 

“I can’t yet. I won’t. Not until we find  _ something _ ,” she said manically, rolling her chair back and forth between monitors, her fingers flying over the keyboard. John took a deep breath and sighed before walking over to her and grabbing the arms of her chair, pulling her around to face him as he knelt before her. 

“You heard what Barry and Cisco said. There’s nothing we can do until they pinpoint the location of the breach. You’re just making yourself crazy.” Felicity’s eyes were wild as she looked him over. “I know this is hard on you--but you need to trust them.”

“It’s  _ Oliver _ ,” she said, pleading with him to understand. “He’d do the same thing if it was any of us missing and you know it.” 

“I know,” John assured her. “I do, but Felicity--he wouldn’t want you making yourself sick over him like this. You need a shower and some rest.” 

“John I can’t,” she whimpered. “It’s like Ray all over again. What if he tries to get through and I’m not here to get his message? What if he needs us and we aren’t there? What if--what if he’s gone for good and I never got to tell him--”

“Felicity,” he cut her off, his hands moving to grip her shoulders tightly. “It’s  _ Oliver _ . He knows. You know he knows. And you know he’ll come back because he always does.” He watched her lower lip quiver and a tear slide down her cheek. “Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms and cradling her head against his chest. “Oliver will always come home to you, Felicity. You know that.”

She let out a choked sob and he held her even tighter, stroking her hair as she fell to pieces in his embrace. It had been nearly 24 hours since Oliver had vanished. They had no clue where to even begin looking for him and Felicity had taken it hardest of all. It killed him to see her so broken over Oliver’s disappearance, but even though he was worried too, he knew he couldn’t let her realize that. So he took another deep breath and tried to stay calm for her sake. 

“Do you really think he’s okay?” she asked, leaning back to look at him with hesitance in her eyes. John pressed a kiss to her messy hair.

“I do. And he is going to come home to you--to  _ us _ . I promise.” 

“I just can’t make myself leave the computers--in case an alert comes through or Barry’s team finds something or--” her voice was rising in pitch and speed again and he knew he had to ground her again, so he pulled her back against him. 

“You need to go take a shower. And a nap. I can handle keeping an eye on the alerts.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, resolute as always. “Yes, Felicity. Go. Please. I will stay right here and keep watch. I swear.” She looked back and forth from his face to the computers and back again, pulling her lower lip in between her teeth to gnaw at it. Sensing her reluctance, John pulled her out of the chair and pushed her towards the bathroom. 

“I guess maybe a shower wouldn’t be a bad idea,” she mumbled.

“And a nap,” John insisted. 

“Fine,” she said petulantly. “But you wake me up--”

“The moment I hear  _ anything _ \--you will know it,” he promised. “Go.” She shot one last distressed look towards her monitors before inching her way to the bathroom. 

The hot water was soothing on her back, which was stiff from the hours of sitting in her chair staring at the screens and as soon as she finished washing her hair she climbed out and wrapped herself in one of the huge fluffy towels Oliver kept on his shelf. She chuckled half-heartedly to herself as she remembered their very first fight as a couple, shortly after they’d moved into their house in Ivy Town. 

They had purchased eight towels at Bed Bath and Beyond that were normal sized and two that were extra large, because the regular ones could just barely make it around Oliver’s waist. Felicity, though the normal towels were just the right size for her, couldn’t help but borrow his huge ones more often than not. She just loved wrapping herself in them like a cocoon. One afternoon he’d gotten out of the shower and sternly reprimanded her for using his towels again and Felicity had fired back that maybe he shouldn’t leave his wet towels on her side of the bed all the time. They were mid-argument when they both stopped and looked at each other before bursting into laughter at how ridiculous the situation was. They’d made up on the damp bed shortly afterwards and Oliver had gone out and purchased five more extra large towels the next day, ending the argument for good. After the break up he’d only taken half of them, making sure to leave her a few in the loft. The sad smile on her face turned back to tears at the thought as she sank down on his bed in the alcove, still wrapped in the huge towel, and she fell asleep with her face buried in his pillow, breathing in the scent that still lingered there. 

  
  
  


>>>\-------------------->

 

Oliver tossed and turned in a bed that had once been comfortable, going over and over in his mind all of the things that had happened that day. After the party Laurel had left with barely more than a dirty look in his direction and he’d had to shout Tommy down when he insisted on taking him out again. The look of relief and surprise on his mother’s face had been something of note, and he’d gladly shut the door behind his friend when he left, desperate only for a moment to himself to think. Sometime during the party his father had slipped out, and Oliver didn’t see him again for the rest of the night. And while he knew Thea had to be around somewhere, he decided to spend the night trying to piece things together as best he could. 

He found a green journal in one drawer of his desk and took a pen from another before closing his eyes tightly and trying to think and remember anything he could. He scribbled notes as the moments came to him one by one. 

 

There’d been a boat trip on the family yacht. And it had gone under. There was an island--something that started with an “L”--and for some reason he kept having visions of some place that looked to be somewhere in Asia. There were a ton of images that kept coming to him where he was aiming a bow, but he could never make out what he was meant to be hunting. Throughout it all he kept seeing the face of the blonde woman from the party--Felicity. He could see her blue eyes as clear as day and the pang he felt at the thought of her was both new and achingly familiar all at once. 

 

He continued to write as more things jumped out at him. And as disjointed and confusing as the words looked on the paper, he knew he was closer to an answer than he had been. An hour later he had filled several pages with his notes and his head was throbbing under the stress of it all as someone knocked gently at his door. 

“It’s open, come in,” he called out. He closed the notebook hastily when his mother entered, closing the door softly behind her and turning to face him. 

“Oliver, I want to talk to you,” she said. Her voice was cool and steady, but with a hint of trepidation behind it. He sat up straighter, trying to show her he was paying attention. “You and Laurel have been together on and off for so long now, and I truly believe that this marriage is for the best but,” she hesitated and took a few steps towards him. “Do you really think that you’re going to go through with this?” Oliver didn’t answer, though something inside was screaming at him to say no, he didn’t want to in the slightest. “I’m sure you care about her,” Moira continued. “So if there is any part of you that thinks you might not be able to do this, I suggest you tell her.  _ Now _ . Before you embarrass the girl anymore than you already have.” 

Oliver simply nodded, unsure of how to respond, and Moira closed the gap between them, reaching out to stroke his cheek tenderly. When her fingers brushed over his skin he gasped aloud, pain shooting through his head like nothing he’d ever felt before as he was assaulted by flash after flash of visions.

 

_ His mother was holding back tears as she wrapped her arms around him. “My beautiful boy,” she cried, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  _

 

Another streak of pain and her voice was echoing in his head.

 

_ “I know, Oliver. I know...there’s nothing else to say. Except I could not be more proud.” _

 

A third, even more searing pain accompanied by cries and screams and a man’s voice.

 

_ “There’s only one way this night can end,” his mother said, standing before him where he knelt on the cold, damp ground. “Both my children will live,” she added firmly, staring down the man in front of her. Thea was sobbing nearby, pleading.  _

_ “You possess true courage,” the man spoke as he lowered his gun and turned away from her. “I’m truly sorry you did not pass that on to your son.” A cry of despair and outrage. Broken sobs and screams as the man ran a sword through his mother right in front of him. _

 

“Oliver!” He opened his eyes, a shout caught in his throat and he looked up to see his mother standing there, her hands in the air as though something had burned her. “What in the world is going on with you? Are you alright?” She reached to touch him again and he flinched, pulling away instinctively before she could make contact. 

“I think I need some sleep,” he managed, doing his best to hide his rapid breaths and terrified expression. “I’ll think about what you said and--and I’ll--I’ll talk to Laurel tomorrow.” 

Moira looked down at him in bewilderment and took a step backwards. 

“That’s just fine,” she said softly. “Get some rest.” Oliver nodded, avoiding her gaze as she let herself out of the room, the door closing behind her hard and fast. 

“What the hell is happening to me?” he muttered to himself. Then he opened his notebook and wrote a bit more. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team thinks they've found Oliver.

“Felicity! We need you on the comms!”

She sat up in a panic when John shouted down the hall to her and scrambled into a pair of leggings and one of Oliver’s giant hoodies. She didn’t even waste time on shoes, instead bolting for her station in her bare feet and sliding into her chair at full speed. She caught herself on the desk just before she rolled off the edge of the platform.

“I’m here! I’m here! What’s happening?” she turned to see Caitlin and Iris sitting across from her and froze for a minute, blinking. “Oh. Hi.” 

“Hey--sorry your nap was cut short. Dig said you really needed it,” Caitlin said.

“Barry, John and Sara just left. We used your facial recognition software and we think we have a lead on where Oliver is being held,” Iris informed her. Felicity shook her head to clear it and turned back to the screen in front of her, reaching up to pull her unruly blonde curls into a ponytail with the elastic band that was waiting on her wrist. 

“Where?” she demanded, ready for business now that her hair was as it should be.

“Warehouse in the Glades,” Iris told her, crossing to Felicity and placing a hand on her arm. “We’re gonna get him back, Felicity,” she said softly. Felicity gave a jerky nod and took a breath, squaring her shoulders. 

“Overwatch, do you copy?” Sara’s voice came through the speakers.

“Copy, Canary. Spartan, Flash--”

“Copy, Overwatch,” John and Barry said in unison.

“Be my eyes,” Felicity insisted, the firmness in her voice covering just how anxious she was feeling in that moment. “Let me know what’s happening.”

“Moving on his location,” John announced.

“Two guards…” Barry noted. “Wait, that’s it?” Felicity could hear the confusion in Barry’s voice and she sucked in a breath.

“How has he not escaped yet?” Sara asked, equally incredulous. 

“I’m moving in--” John said quietly. “Canary, Flash, cover me.”

“Copy.” 

 

Felicity, Iris and Caitlin leaned in, as though being closer to the speaker would allow them to magically know what was happening as the silence rang out. 

“What’s happening guys?” Felicity breathed out.

“I’ve got him--he’s unconscious but alive,” John said. “Flash, Canary--I’m going to need help moving him.” The other two gave noises of acknowledgement and the women in the lair could hear the shuffling and grunting as the three in the field moved to carry Oliver to the exit.

“We’re at the van,” Sara groaned, and they heard a thump in the background.

“Yikes! Watch his head!” Barry admonished them. 

“He’s so hard-headed he probably didn’t even feel it,” John scoffed. 

“We’ll be back in ten,” Sara said as the van door slid shut. 

Felicity let out her breath and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. When she opened them she saw Iris and Caitlin sharing a worried look. 

“What?” Felicity asked, brow furrowed. 

“It’s just--” Caitlin began, biting her lip and glancing towards Iris. “Wasn’t that a little too easy?” Iris shrugged in agreement and Felicity felt the panic start to sink back in again. 

“We’ll just wait until he gets back,” Felicity said, trying to reassure herself. “It’ll be fine. It’s  _ Oliver. _ He’s always fine, right?” She pushed herself away from the desk and got up, wrapping her arms around herself and pacing. Though she knew she looked ridiculous in the all-encompassing hoodie, she pulled it even more tightly around her, breathing in Oliver’s scent from the collar and trying to calm herself down. 

Ten minutes passed more like ten hours as she waited for the telltale sound of the elevator descending down the shaft, and when the ding finally went off she vaulted towards the doors to greet the team as they stumbled in, dragging Oliver in with them. 

“Get him to the med table,” John instructed, and the three of them hoisted Oliver up onto the metal slab and laid him down. Felicity wasted no time in checking his vitals--all of which came up as fine, if not slightly slowed. 

“He’s alive. Just knocked out,” she said. 

“Thank God he’s okay,” Caitlin breathed out. She and Iris each wrapped an arm around Felicity and pulled her in for a hug. John, Barry and Sara dispersed to change and Iris and Caitlin meandered back to their chairs, leaving Felicity alone with Oliver. 

She trailed a hand up his arm to his neck and his face, running her fingers through his stubble and up to stroke his hair. Never before had she felt so relieved to be able to reach out and touch him, to assure herself that he was real and he was alive. Nearly two entire days of worry and fear and now he was back and safe and she silently swore to herself that as soon as he woke up she would tell him just how much she loved him. She rehearsed her speech in her mind for a bit as she tried to re-memorize every single freckle and every single line on his face. Her fingers brushed down his jaw and over to his lips and she leaned in to press a kiss there.

“What the hell is going on!?” he shouted, bolting upright on the table and wrapping his hand around her wrist so tightly she thought it might break. She cried out in pain just as the rest of the team rounded the corner. “Who the hell are you?! Where am I?” 

“O-Oliver,” Felicity whimpered. “You’re hurting me!” He dropped her arm and scrambled off the table, eyeing the others as they approached, clearly not intending to hesitate should they need to subdue him. Felicity fell back, holding her arm. 

“You!” Oliver pointed at John. “You work for my father. What is this? A kidnapping for ransom or something? You’re out of your mind. Do you have any idea what my father will do to you when he finds out what you’ve done?” 

“Oliver, what--what’s wrong with you?” Felicity pleaded, and her voice caused him to turn on her next, his eyes wild as he advanced on her. At the last second Sara jumped in front of Felicity, raising her hands to stop him.

“Ollie!” she shouted. One look at her face had Oliver freezing in his tracks. 

“ _ Sara _ ?” he said, baffled. “What is going on? Why am I here? Is Laurel okay?”

 

Everyone in the room felt the air knocked out of them at that and they looked to each other, unsure of how to react. Realization dawned on Barry first. 

“Ohhhhh no,” he gasped, covering his mouth with his hands. “No, no, no, no.” Iris and Caitlin caught on next, their eyes going wide. 

“Doppelganger?” Caitlin guessed, and Barry nodded slowly. Felicity, John and Sara rounded on the three of them, clearly not amused that they weren’t explaining already.

“ _ What _ ?” John asked. Barry shut his eyes in frustration. 

“A doppelganger. From another Earth. Like Wells--or, or--Supergirl,” he groaned. 

“Oh.  _ Oh! _ ” Felicity gasped. “Not even kind of what I expected.”

“Right? All his hair,” Barry chuckled until he caught the glare on Felicity’s face. 

“Can someone  _ please _ tell me what the  _ hell _ is going on here?!” Oliver demanded, stomping his foot for effect and pouting. The others all turned slowly to look at him. 

“Well,” Felicity began. “Uhh...Barry?” 

“Right,” Barry said. “Where do we even begin?” Caitlin cleared her throat and stepped forward, placing a hand on Barry’s shoulder.

“Maybe I can help?” she suggested. Barry nodded her on and she turned to Oliver. “Hi, I’m Caitlin--Dr. Snow--and I’ll try to break this down for you.” Oliver raised a very unimpressed eyebrow at her and she cleared her throat nervously. “There are lots of different realities. There’s yours, there’s ours and there’s an infinite number more of them. And we have a friend who can open portals to other realities. Apparently he’s not the only one.” 

“So what she’s saying--” Barry interrupted, seeing the look of absolute and utter confusion on Oliver’s face. “Is that someone must have switched you with the Oliver who belongs here. Because you are... _ clearly _ ...not him.”

Oliver stared, his mouth hanging open for a good thirty seconds before he turned to Sara and ran a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry but--that is just  _ insane _ . You expect me to believe this?” He looked around once more before a grin crossed his face and he laughed. “Wait. Is this some kind of--crazy bachelor party? Did Tommy put you up to this?” He began to chuckle a bit maniacally, as though he’d figured out that everyone was playing a huge joke on him. “You guys kidnap me, get me a few hot strippers--” he motioned at Felicity and Iris who both gasped in disgust and indignation. “Give me one last night of craziness before I marry your sister? Good one, Sara. You almost had me for a minute there.” 

 

Sara sighed and closed the gap between them, putting a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.

“It’s not a joke, Ollie. You aren’t in your world right now,” she insisted. “Things here--things are different. You have a totally different life. We all do.” Oliver’s face faltered as he took in the sober faces of those around him. 

“What does that mean?” he asked, and his voice began to quake as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “What’s different? Where’s--where’s Laurel?” Sara shook her head sadly and sighed. 

“Laurel--Laurel’s gone, Ollie,” she told him. “And Tommy. And your parents. They aren’t alive in this timeline.” Oliver’s breathing sped up and he searched Sara’s face for any indication that it was all a mistake. All a lie. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head furiously. “No. That doesn’t make sense.” 

“Ollie I’m so sorry,” Sara said, rubbing his back as he began to gasp for air, falling back to sit on the table again. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot to take in. But we’ll do everything we can to get you back to your timeline. I promise.” 

“How is this possible?” he pleaded. 

“We’ve been asking ourselves that question a  _ lot _ lately,” John said. “Or at least I have.”

“So now we’re no closer to finding Oliver  _ and _ we have a new...problem...to deal with?” Felicity said, waving a hand in the new Oliver’s direction. He clearly took offense to her description of him and shot her a dirty look. Barry put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

“We’ll find him, Felicity. We will. I can have Cisco start to trace breaches to find where this Oliver came from. It’ll take some time, but I know he can find it eventually.” 

“In the meantime, I’m sure  _ this _ Oliver has a lot of questions,” Caitlin said, eyeing Oliver with intrigue and sympathy. 

“Right. Let’s get you cleaned up. I’m sure you’re probably hungry and miserable if you’ve been in that warehouse as long as our Oliver’s been missing,” Sara said. Oliver nodded and followed her, clearly trusting her above any of the rest of them. Felicity watched as they walked away, her fingers tightly wrapped in the sleeves of the hoodie she was still wearing. 

“Hey,” John said next to her ear. “I’m sorry this didn’t turn out how you expected.” She shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat as he wrapped his arms around her. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver works up the courage to ask Felicity about his problem.

He didn’t know why he felt so drawn to the woman from the party, but for some reason he found himself lurking around the IT department at Queen Consolidated the next morning, the little green notebook tucked in the pocket of his jacket securely. Something about her made him feel comfortable and safe while everything else around him had his head in complete disarray. His status as son of the CEO meant nobody looked at him too closely, and he had access to pretty much every single part of the building. Security guards who had been there since Oliver was a toddler waved to him as he passed through, and he managed to be convincing enough with his charming grin and way with words that he didn’t raise suspicions. 

 

When his mother had left his room the night before she’d left him on the verge of a panic attack. His mind was racing, trying to nail down every detail of the visions that had besieged him. The man with the sword stuck out to him in particular, and he had re-lived his mother’s gruesome death ten times over as he fought to sleep all night. It had all felt so real. So real and so terrifying. He’d even snuck down the hall at one point to peek in on her as she slept, just to reassure himself that she was still there. 

 

Now, however, he turned another corner to find a closed door with a silver plaque on it that read “Felicity Palmer: Director of Information Technology and Cyber Security”. He gingerly pushed it open and slipped inside, finding her entirely absorbed in whatever it was she was doing on her tablet. He watched her silently for a bit, taking her in and reveling in the calm he felt come over him at her presence. 

“Hi,” he finally said, and she jumped as though he’d yelled it. 

“Geeze! Don’t you knock?!” she shouted. Oliver smiled at her reaction.

“This is the IT department, Felicity. It’s not the ladies’ room.” She shrugged as though agreeing that she couldn’t argue with that and set her tablet to the side.

“What can I do for you, Oliv--Mr. Queen.” He flinched at the formality, but they were at the office and he was the son of her boss, so he let it slide. He hesitated, shuffling from foot to foot before working up the courage to shut the door and sit in the chair in front of her desk. 

“You seem like a smart person,” he began. She tilted her head at him and raised an eyebrow. “And I have a...problem.” 

Suddenly he felt his face flush as the reality of the situation overcame him. Why was he here? He didn’t even know this girl and he was coming to her with some fable about erased memories and whatever the hell else was going on with him? He leaned over and placed his elbows on her desk, burying his face in his hands in frustration. 

“I’m sorry, this is stupid,” he said. “I shouldn’t even be here.” Felicity reached out and before he could even register it, her hand was on his and the searing pain was slicing through him again as flashes of memory assaulted him. 

 

“ _ You’ll always be my girl, Felicity,” he tells her as his hand cups her cheek. _

 

_ In the dark foyer of the Queen mansion, she’s begging him not to leave her behind.  _

_ “He took Laurel because he wants to kill the woman I love.” Felicity nods, not getting it. _

_ “So?” she questions. _

_ “So he took the wrong woman. I love you. Do you understand?” _

 

The pain cuts through him again and he cries out.

 

_ “Then say never!” she shouts. “Stop dangling maybes...Say it never would have worked out between us. Say you never loved me--” Standing in a dimly lit hallway, he presses his lips to hers desperately and she melts into him. _

_ “Don’t ask me to say I don’t love you.” _

 

Flash after flash of blinding light accompany the pain, so intense and excruciating.

 

_ Beneath him, his name on her lips and her fingers in his hair. _

_ On a beach somewhere, looking tan and windswept. _

_ In front of a brightly lit Christmas tree as he slides a ring onto her finger.  _

_ That same ring being set on the table as she walks away from him.  _

 

“Mr. Que--Oliver?” Felicity’s voice was soft and felt so overwhelmingly familiar to him. He just couldn’t understand why. Her hand finally moved to rest on his arm, where his shirt covered him, and in a moment the pain was gone. “You’re looking a little green,” she said nervously, coming around the desk to assess him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Something’s wrong,” he said, nearly a whimper. “I just--I can’t--”

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said soothingly. “Try and calm down.”

“This isn’t right. None of this is right,” he rambled. “You should be--and my parents--”

“Oliver, breathe,” she reminded him. 

He looked up and caught her eye, and there she was.  _ His _ Felicity was in there somewhere, he just needed to get her to trust him. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he tried to find a way to word the situation that wouldn’t make her think he was absolutely out of his mind. 

“Can you try and tell me what’s going on?” she prodded. He sighed and let his head fall back against the chair.

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I tried,” he admitted. She set her jaw and looked at him, her eyes full of challenge and indignance. 

“Well then try me,” she said. 

 

Oliver closed his eyes for a minute and an image of her appeared before him again. She was in a wedding dress, looking at him like he was the whole world. His heart ached at the sight and he instinctively reached for the book in his pocket, holding it out to her with a shaky hand.

“I keep--seeing things. Or remembering things. It’s like a different life or something,” he told her, waiting for her to realize how crazy he was and kick him out. “And I don’t even know why I’m here, asking you for help, except--I keep seeing you. Everything around me right now feels wrong except you. I just feel like I can trust you…” he trailed off for a moment and looked up at her expectantly. “Is that insane?” 

Felicity took the notebook from him and opened it nervously, avoiding his gaze as she flipped through the pages with her brow furrowed. She reached the last page, her eyes still scanning, and her jaw dropped.

“How do you know this?!” she demanded, shoving the book back into his hands and jabbing her finger at the page. He looked down and searched for the part she was pointing at. A jumble of words is scribbled there: 

  
_Vigilante John Diggle Felicity Smoak team_

_ Barry Allen = Flash super speed particle accelerator explosion Central City STAR labs time travel breaches _

 

“Which part?” he asked, looking back up at her. Felicity took the book back, looking a bit panic-stricken as she read the words over again.

“All of it,” she said. “My maiden name. The team. Barry and everyone at STAR Labs in 

Central City...how did you know?” Oliver shook his head at her and shrugged.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t  _ know  _ how I know any of this? It just keeps coming to me in bits and pieces. And wait-- what team? There’s a vigilante in Star City?” Felicity closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Why do you keep calling it Star City? It’s Starling City. And how have you not heard of 

the Starling Vigilante?” she asked, exasperated.

“Is that really what’s important right now? The point is I feel like I’m losing my mind. Please tell me that any of this makes sense to you. Tell me you can help me?” 

 

Felicity looked between Oliver’s face and the notebook a few times, taking it all in and trying to process it while Oliver looked at her with pleading eyes.

“Listen, I know this all sounds completely insane. But something keeps telling me you are supposed to know what to do. What else can I say to prove to you that this is real?” Felicity threw her hands in the air in defeat and Oliver closed his eyes tightly to brace himself and reached out to touch her bare arm. 

“What are you--” he cut her off with a gasp and began to spout anything that came to him as the memories began to flood him.

“You’re allergic to peanuts. You’re terrified of kangaroos. You graduated top of your class from MIT in 2009. Your mother is a waitress in Vegas and your father left when you were--” Felicity yanked her arm out of his grasp.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelped. 

“Felicity,  _ please _ ,” he said.

“Okay! Okay! Just--stop doing... _ that _ !” she said. Oliver leaned back in his chair and put his hands up in surrender. “There is nothing not creepy about that,” she said under her breath, standing to go back to her chair and put some distance between them. She sat down and grasped the arms of her chair until her knuckles turned white before speaking.

“I believe you.” 

“You do?” Oliver gaped at her. She nodded slowly.

“Barry and I have been friends for awhile. And yes, when the particle accelerator exploded a few years ago he got powers and became The Flash. He and his team have theorized that it’s possible to access different timelines, but they haven’t been successful at actually breaching it yet. I will reach out to him and ask if any of this makes sense to him.” 

Oliver felt relief wash over him as she spoke and he couldn’t help but grin at her.

“Felicity, thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” she mumbled. Then she sat up a bit straighter as something occurred to her. “No, really. Please. Don’t mention this. To anyone.” 

“I have every intention of keeping this as close to the vest as possible,” he assured her. 

“Good,” she said. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from the STAR Labs team.”

 

As Oliver left her office in a much more optimistic mood than he’d arrived in, Felicity heaved a sigh before picking up her phone to send a few messages. Five minutes later her phone rang and she answered, keeping her voice low as she spoke.

“Mr. Queen, I need to talk to you about Oliver.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea rolling around in my head for weeks now and I wanted to get it out before the actual crossover happened. Hopefully it's enjoyable. Thank you for reading!


End file.
